Mouth of the Mississippi

Because It's There!  That would seem to be the main reason for traveling to the mouth of the Mississippi.  I'm glad to have made the trip, but it did not need to be a - two day spectacle.

After arriving mid-afternoon on the first in the day, it was too late to make to Fort Jackson and being that I was right there, Fort Jackson seemed too important to just pass up; and, therefore, a second trip became mandatory.

The entire area from Belle Chase to Venice, Louisiana (a suburb of the Greater New Orleans Metropolitan Area) is a sparely populated peninsula, save for the numerous oil refineries.  There are housing developments visible off the highway that appear to be largely of the up-scale variety, but the main roadway one passes through several communities along the way, which are - marked on the map - but could be easily passed by without ever knowing that you were ever there in the first place.

Riding along the highway, my impression was that there are no real towns at all - just settlements.  The houses along the highway are mostly either modular housing units or double and single wide mobile homes.  Then too most of them appear to newer units; an apparent testament to the ravages of Hurricane Katrina.  In the space of only a little more than four years, it is now often hard to find evidence of the horrors wrought by Katrina to Louisiana; once again we see the incredible resilience of the human spirit.

Now, Louisiana is being threatened by yet another major disaster - the explosion on British Petroleum oil drilling rig.  With every passing day the slick grows ever larger and the possibility of another Katrina scale disaster grows more imminent.  

On the way down, I couldn't resist standing on the bank of the Mississippi and photographing the ships plying their way up and down and down the Mississippi.  Now, standing at the mouth of the Mississippi, I felt compelled to photograph a lone ship bound upstream at the mouth of the Mississippi.

It was surprising to me to find that, all along the stretch of land from Belle Chase to Venice, wherever there was an open field of land, there were often cattle grazing - this is serious cattle country!

The trip itself is a short 75 mile drive along Highway 23, and ends in Venice, where a congratulatory sign announces the arrival at the southern most point in the state of Louisiana - The Gateway to the Gulf of Mexico.

As the sun began to set I began snapping shots, hoping for the      "spectacular"      sunset that never came.  Turning back to east, and preparing to repack my camera on my bike, I noticed what entirely escaped before.  Above the horizon to the east, just beginning to make its presence known, was a glorious full moon.  Together with the cypress and decaying storm ravaged trees it was a very special scene.

As it turned out, I had little need to have been so concerned about the visiting Fort Jackson - the facility was closed!

Nonetheless, I was able the tour the grounds outside of the fort and take some photographs, but to my dismay, and despite my efforts, I was unable to find a location to scale walls and - raid the fort!  However, the moat surrounding the fort and high walls made it entirely impossible.

Fort Jackson was built in 1822 to protect the city of New Orleans from being attacked via traveling up the Mississippi.    

During the Civil War Fort Jackson and Fort St. Phillip (on the opposite bank of the Mississippi) withstood the Unions' attack for succumbing and thus the Union secured the city of New Orleans for the remainder of the war.

  

The Honey Island Swamp

Bernie took the afternoon off and joined me on the trip to the Honey Island Swamp.  Honey Island is a track of bottomland timber lying between the East Pearl and West Pearl Rivers and is about 15 miles long and 7 miles wide at its widest.

We entered on the West Pearl River and never went but a little more than a mile from the point of our departure - we didn't have too - there was plenty to see right where we were.

Our guide for trip was the amiable "Captain Jack"; about 6 feet tall and built like a linebacker, he very much looked the part of the rugged outdoorsman that he no doubt was.  A veteran Honey Island guide for more than 12 years, he clearly enjoyed his forte.

Our boat was a canopied scow-like boat that provided comfortable seating for the twelve of us that were making the journey.  It afforded ample opportunity to move around and get the best possible photograph without having to infringe on other passengers.

As traveled along the swampy embanks of the river, the moss laden bald cypress trees provided setting unlike any I had ever experienced first hand.  I had, of course, seen numerous pictures of swamps before, but you can't beat the real thing.

We had barely left the encampment and entered into one of the bayous when we encountered "El Guapo" - a monstrous 15 foot alligator who was lying on the bank leisurely sunning himself in a very alligator like manner.

El Guapo's size and strength made him the master of his own territory, and Captain Jack explained that he would chase-off any, would be intruder, in order to protect his harem of five mates.

Captain Jack began giving his "alligator call" in an attempt to lure El Guapo off the bank, but to no avail - El Guapo was not so easily disturbed.  The Captain, however, had been there before and like a good "boy scout" came prepared.  With a well placed hot dog, he finally lured El Guapo off the bank to side of our craft.  Having gained El Guapo's undivided attention, he continued to drop hot dogs into El Guapo's gaping mouth.  Obviously, this was a game that he could play all day!

Much of our trip was to be more of an excursion along the West Pearl than it was exploration deep into the swamps bayous.  Early on in the trip, Captain Jack explained, mournfully, that all of the wildlife would be scared away by another boater that had "snuck" in front of us, and he therefore had to quickly develop an alternative plan.  His success at doing so was a testament to his guiding experience.

We were not able to a great variety of wildlife, but did see a number of Great Blue Herons and Azaleas draped along the river bank.  It was interesting to see the houses where true to life "river-rats" made their (mostly weekend) abodes.  With no roads leading these retreats, for these homes, the only access was the river.  These houses contrasted starkly with the "million dollar" homes on the opposite bank of the river; homes that were, however, readily accessible by the nearby roadways.

The Manchac Swamp

Manchac Swamp is located a short distance from Mandeville; a very enjoyable motorcycle ride by the way Highway 22 that passes through Madisonville and Ponchatoula before connecting to I-55.
Madisonville small resort town located on the scenic Tchefuncte River, and is well worth a visit.  It features waterside restaurants with evening entertainment where you can have a pleasant meal and enjoy live entertainment while watch the boats idle leisurely up the Tchefuncte River.

The Annual Ponchatoula Strawberry Festival just finished up last week (wouldn't you know it); but, there other claim to fame - their numerous antique shops were still going strong, were just too inviting to pass up.

A few miles removed from the faster paced life of Mandeville and New Orleans, Ponchatoula's laid back life style is a relaxing change of pace and its many antique shops are just plane fun to browse.

As you head south on I-55 you pass along Manchac Swamp Bridge which is purported to be the world's third longest bridge (a mere 1800 and some feet less than the Pontchartrain Causeway).

The Manchac Swamp separates Lake Pontchartrain from Lake Maurepas (although the lakes are interconnected via the Manchac Pass).

Surprisingly for most of its length the bridge parallels a two lane highway which is built over the marshy swamp lands.  One has to wonder why existing highway was not just widened rather than building the, seemingly, more costly elevated interstate highway that was built in the 1970's (I'm sure I'll never know the answer).

Manchac itself is small fishing village where most of the villagers are said to make their living shrimping and fishing.

The Manchac Swamp is touted as being one of "The Twelve Eeriest Places on Earth".  The story is that in 1915, one Julie Brown was being buried when huge hurricane swept through and virtually destroyed the entire town of Frenier - the hurricane end up being the final resting place for all 50 attendees of the funeral of Julie Brown.  Still today, the depths of the swamp hold the mass graves of the hurricanes victims of that fateful day.  The victims of that disaster are said to, "Still haunt the Manchac Swamp".

Getting Back on Track

Did you ever notice how things have a way going awry?  Murphy's Law, "If anything can go wrong, it will!"

I'm not usually so pessimistic, but it seems that since leaving Michigan that my blogging routine has gone - anything but good!

All of my blogs' are first written on Notepad and edited for errors using Microsoft Works Word Processor (before adding pictures and posting).

The other day, after writing a new blog, I inadvertently open a second Notepad (bad move) and saved the second Notepad after having saved the first (are you following me?)  Of course, the second Notepad did not contain the new post; hence, the new post was lost for all time!  To compound the problem, I had delayed posting the blog in an effort to take one more photo (deemed critical to the blog) and did not realize that the blog was lost until another day had past.  In short, I "screwed up!"    

Now, to resurrect things becomes harder with each passing day.

Let's digress.  I left Michigan on the 16th of April, bound for New Orleans with the intended purpose of picking up my motorcycle and embarking for "parts unknown."

It was the 16th of December when I left New Orleans after having first stored my motorcycle in Mandeville (located on the north side of Lake Pontchartrain across the causeway - the world's longest bridge - from New Orleans) at the home of my friends' Bernard and Carrie Smith.

In addition to storing my motorcycle and giving me a place to stay while in New Orleans, and on top of his job as the Assistant Prosecuting Attorney to St. Tammany Parrish, building a new home and caring for his invalid mother Bernie has been assisting with my sordid legal issues.  He is an amazing man and a true friend - blessed with intelligence and wit that compliment his vibrant personality.  

Four months after having first left New Orleans, and I'm am only now just getting started; and the "plans" are in a state of flux.  Bernie has helped to convince me take in some of the sights in and around New Orleans before heading west; and therefore, that is my immediate mission.

Tomorrow - exploring the Honey Island and Manchac Swamps.

Our Nations Capital

It was a short trip (only three days), and not what I expected. The cherry blossoms were still there to be seen, but the full splendor had past (the report was that the season came earlier than normal).

For me the major fascination of Washington is two fold; first, the "people watching" is fantastic - the excitement of the people in and around the Washington Mall jogging, throwing footballs or Frisbees or softballs, flying kites with kids following excitedly behind; and second the architectural spectacle of the monuments, statues and the magnificent building that make up Washington D. C.

However, this year something seems to be missing; some of the excitement was still there, but the total spark was diminished. All of the afore mentioned items were present, but I saw no musicians playing clarinets, trumpets or saxophones; there were no street side magicians, jugglers or mimes; perhaps all of this just a quirk, an anomaly; but it was even more than this.

Sadly, this same administration that chooses to freely spend our tax dollars unrestrained, fails to tend to the grasses of our nations capital. Make no mistake, the Washington Mall is still a beautiful area, but gone are thick lush green grasses - replaced by splotches and vast areas bare ground. This Is the Capital Mall of Washington D.C., our Nations Capital, it is our image to the entire the world, and surely we can afford to uphold our image.

In addition, the spectacularly beautiful building of American Indian Museum (completed in 2005) is a "spectacular" disappointment on the inside. There are some strong points: the Mesoamerican and Inca statuary are truly impressive and the Inuit "Ice Sleds" share equally in that regard; even so, I left the building feeling that - "too much was missing when all is considered!"

On the other hand, the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden was a real treat which have somehow missed in the past.

I have no regret for having made the visit, but something seems to be slipping away, slipping away, slipping....

Cleared to Go!

It has been over three weeks since I returned from MichCanSka's "Iditarod of Snowmobiling," but at last, all the obstacles that were preventing me from leaving have been removed and now I am - cleared to go!

Even so, it was Wednesday before I was able to book the flight back to New Orleans, but now the flight is booked for the 16th of April.

In the meantime (believing that I would not be able to even book a flight before the 16th), I booked an extended weekend trip to see the cherry blossoms and other sites of Washington D.C.; and yesterday morning I arrived in to begin this quest.

Therefore, to avoid wasting the limited time available (return flight on Tuesday the 13th), I'll close this blog and return for another day of exploring the grandeur of Washington D.C.

Fleckless!

You cannot hold me fleckless for my failure to keep abreast of my blog; but, on the other hand, any criticism to that effect will be perceived invidiously.

Is not this, indiscretion, only a minor faux pas? Or are you of the mind that you have heard enough of my mendacious ranting?

How am I doing? Have you had to scurry to look up any of the above words via your online dictionary?

My hope is that you have not just turned away and said, "What a pompous A@#." I assure that it this little bit of word play is all in fun!

For those of you who may not have bothered to look up the definitions:

1 Fleckless - Without spot or blame. E.G., my conscience will not count me feckless.

2 Invidious - Tending to arouse ill will.

3 Faux pas - a slip or blunder in etiquette, manners, or conduct; an embarrassing social blunder or indiscretion.

4 Mendacious - given to or characterized by deception or falsehood or divergence from absolute truth

Or, for those others of you for whom there was no need to look up any of the above; you win my highest praise, respect and envy.

Now, to get to the point of my "time off" from the blog writing scene; after being gone for a month, there was, of course, a lot to catch up on, as far as general home maintenance and bills to pay. I, of course, paid most of the bills ahead of time to assure that there would not be any major problems, but (ahem) - I missed a few!

My plans are unchanged and I still fully intend to - return to New Orleans to "rescue" my Harley and continue on the way to Panama via the Baha Peninsula of Mexico; but if things don't come together, those plans may be delayed until mid-April or even later.